


Crazy But They Like It That Way

by Sylvesha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Leverage, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvesha/pseuds/Sylvesha
Summary: Smut/PWP. Hermione reflects on what got them together, but mostly enjoys a good time with a lot of cock.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/John Sheppard/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Crazy But They Like It That Way

"Join the Air Force, see the universe, fuck a witch," John Sheppard murmured in Hermione's ear.

Her pulse was already racing, her fingers trembling as Eliot knelt in front of her, hands sliding up the outsides of her legs and under her skirt (thank Merlin she'd worn a skirt that day!).

(if anyone had told Hermione Granger that moving to America to assist with one of their top secret projects would earn her a trip to the other side of the galaxy with an ex-'retrieval specialist'-for-hire and an Air Force pilot who both like getting their hands on her skin and their cocks buried in her, she would have laughed at them. She was a _researcher_ and certified bookworm. War heroine was a decade in her past, and hadn't ever made her that interesting anyway)

"She's already wet for us, Sheppard," Eliot called from where he was brushing his lips along the inside of her knee. "I can fucking smell it."

"Wants it so bad, our girl."

Biting down on her lip would be a fucking cliche. Hermione let the soft little moan escape, instead, knowing they liked hearing her, knowing that getting fucked was the whole goal of this encounter. John's hands tightened on her waist, then he slid them under her blouse, blunt-tipped nails pressing into her sides as he drew them up.

"Tell us what you need, Hermione."

It shouldn't be hot to have her name said in his dull American drawl. But combined with Eliot's muttered, "So slick, Granger," as his fingers pressed once into her knickers, it made Hermione's pulse quicken. Her legs were already wobbly, but she stayed on her feet, determined.

"Fingers and tongue, Eliot," she gasped, leaning her head on John's shoulder. "In and around and on, and don't tease. Please don't tease."

(it started with awkward lunches in the cafeteria, and Sheppard and Spencer not really taking to each other. It began with Hermione saving the day and Eliot taking a bullet for her and John ending up kidnapped. They weren't on the same team, they were barely friends, but there was something that drew them. She couldn't talk to them about magic, they couldn't really interest her in American football, and John always complained that he hadn't needed to be rescued.)

"Love this lab." Shifting behind her, John settled himself more firmly against the lab bench. His lips trailed across the back of her neck then, tongue making a lazy pattern as his hands continued to work their way around her sides and belly, fingers moving ever upwards towards her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, and she could tell his cock was, too, where it was pressed against her lower back.

She gave a wriggle of her hips, pushing into him.

A sound escaped him, making her mouth twist into a smirk.

Eliot's hands gripped her hips under her skirt, and then he tugged her knickers down her legs, leaving her with the skirt bunched at her hips and air brushing against her skin.

"Fuck, you smell good, baby," he said. "Love the way you twitch and move, just waitin' for us. Do you need a mouth on your pretty little pussy?"

Patience. Not something she'd ever been good at. Hermione was the one who wanted to know everything _now_ , or _yesterday_ , if possible. Being made to wait was killing her, it always had. She reached down and tried to grab for his shoulder to pull him closer, but he dodged backwards, grinning up at her.

 _Fuck_. "I already said I did."

(the problem with trying to work out which man she wanted a relationship with had been difficult. It wasn't until the third awkward sort-of-date with Eliot that she realized she missed John's more straight-forward cockiness. And it wasn't until that time McKay shorted out everything in the lab section, deadlocking them into one of the isolation rooms where she'd been demonstrating some of the charms she'd helped develop which worked with the Ancients' technology that she discovered she missed Eliot when he wasn't around, too. And John missed them both.)

"Pedantic. I like it." With a chuckle, John began unbuttoning her shirt so he could get her bra off her and free up her breasts. That his fingers and palms just barely brushed over her nipples made her growl in frustration.

Apparently, that was the sound _Eliot_ was waiting for as he abruptly leaned in, pushed her legs wider, and licked her from perineum to clit in one swift stroke.

Heat burst along her nerves and one of her hands closed over John's wrist, nails digging into the skin. " _Please_."

"Lady asked nicely, Spencer."

John's hands closed on her breasts, his mouth sucked at her pulse and Eliot--

Eliot swirled his tongue and settled into eating her out with a familiarity and dexterity that had her knees locking as she tried not to collapse.

Sounds escaped her that she was almost a little embarrassed by.

(embarrassment had been the order of the day when she'd realized that Eliot and John fancied each other. She'd felt such an imbecile for assuming either of them really wanted her. She knew the jargon, understood beards were still something that occurred. Laws and restrictions may have been repealed, but there were still prejudices. She was still a mudblood to so many people in magical Britain; it wasn't the same, of course, but similar enough to make her feel used, a little. John had been the one to set her straight. Eliot had been the one to proposition both of them, blaming it on the beer.)

Reaching behind her, Hermione murmured a quick spell to remove John's pants and closed her fingers around his hard member. His hands stilled on her breasts, and his body shivered once, before he seemed to recover. " _Witch_."

"You love me anyway," she replied before flexing her fingers and settling into a careful movement. Just enough rhythm and touch to drive him insane, not enough to cause him to leave the party early.

Eliot sped up his movements, one hand slipping between her legs to assist in the endeavor.

(the first time she'd come hard on Eliot's tongue, Hermione had worried it was a fluke. She'd soon learned that it wasn't.)

John's fingers pinched and tugged at her nipples, then skittered away to stroke along her belly. One dropped down to slide through Eliot's hair, and the sight of John's hand doing that rather than her own while Eliot's mouth was between her legs was just the right thing to shove her over the edge.

The orgasm rolled over her quickly, and she let go, knowing that there wasn't a soul to hear.

(the first time, they'd used no silencing charms and Doctor Weir had sent them a politely-worded memo requesting they remember them in future. She was far more versed in Hermione's world than assumed.)

Sometime during the haze and pulse of the orgasm, her hand had moved away from John's penis, grasping for something to hold onto as her legs finally buckled.

Both men caught her, bracing her against John as Eliot coaxed several aftershocks out of her.

"Gods..." The word trailed off into the stillness of her lab as she tried to catch her breath. "Just... give me a moment, here."

John tightened his hold on her waist and kissed her bare shoulder (she wondered when her blouse and bra had disappeared, but didn't really think it mattered at the moment). "I want a taste, Spencer."

"My pleasure." Standing quicker than Hermione really thought he'd be able to, Eliot leaned into her, hand grabbing for John's head, pulling him into a rough kiss over her shoulder.

Being sandwiched between them was the most amazing sensation, and turning her head to watch her lovers kiss made her knees weaken even more.

"I want to watch you fuck each other," she informed them.

(really, she wasn't a fan of such crude language. English was an art form, one ought to utilize it. But when it rolled off Eliot's tongue as he was murmuring into her pussy, or when John gasped and writhed between them, mouthing _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ , she couldn't really ignore how hot it could be. At times.)

"Always wants that," Eliot teased, turning to kiss her cheek before they all moved.

Hermione straightened and turned to transfigure her lab bench (luckily not a surface she was currently using) into a large, low bed. "Clothes off, gentlemen."

"Think I'm covered," John shot back, spreading his arms and arrogantly dropping onto the bed. His eyes were nearly black as he looked at Eliot. "Get over here, Spencer. I need your dick."

With a quick _accio_ , she summoned a bottle of lube and assisted John and Eliot, her hands clutching and stroking both their dicks as they both made assorted appreciative noises.

There might have been some kissing involved as well, as John turned onto his knees and Eliot began working his fingers in and out of his arse.

(the first time... She had a lot of good, dirty, filthy, wet dream-inducing memories about the first time. And it continued to get better.)

Clambering onto the bed was a little awkward (they were better at knowing how to maneuver around each other now, but there were still times when it was six pairs of everything and too many ways it could go wrong), but Hermione shifted around on her knees until she could drop to back underneath John.

When her hand closed on his still-hard erection, he moaned. When her lips wrapped around it, he jerked causing Eliot to curse.

"Granger making trouble under there, Sheppard?"

"Dirty little--" John broke off to moan as she sucked at him extra hard to keep him from being cruder than needed, "Fuck. Keep that up, and you won't get my cock buried in your pussy, Hermione. I know your cunt wants to feel it."

She moaned around the obstruction in her mouth, but stopped sucking _quite_ so hard.

(maybe the crudity was what turned her on the first time, too.)

John dropped forward bracing his hands on the bed, bracketing her hips. His mouth opened, tongue licking her thigh then her belly, then back to her thighs. He didn't have the same technique as Eliot. Not as practiced, not as full of finesse to know when to lick and when to suck. But he wasn't bad, and Hermione felt her toes curl just a little.

"Love watching you both, such a pretty sight, both of you flushed and begging." Eliot murmured, doing something that made John twitch and moan into her.

In turn, she gasped around his cock.

Eliot chuckled.

(they didn't just have sex, of course. There was conversation. The occasional awkward moment over food when cultural differences stumped them. Hermione didn't enjoy tea being mocked, John didn't see the point of it, Eliot and beer could have had shotgun weddings more than once. But they were managing it, working out how they fit, where each of their boundaries were.)

"Think you're about ready." Eliot reached around John, hand closing over Hermione's where she was grasping the base of John's penis. "Hermione, honey, we need John on his back now."

Between them, they moved. Arms and hands and legs tangling, then pulling free. Hermione actually stood up again, grabbing John's hands as he stretched the length of the bed. Her fingers interlaced with his as his feet planted on the mattress, pushing up higher as Eliot's fingers slid back into his ass from where he knelt between John's legs.

"That's it, Sheppard. Just like--there--" Eliot nodded and Hermione released one of John's hands.

Her wand was still where she'd dropped it. Luckily, her wandless magic was enough to call it, and she conjured several pillow right under John, giving his back the support to keep him raised.

"You're both, so, so," she stumbled over the words for a moment. "Merlin, this is hot."

"If we're going to have a feelings discussion," John started before Eliot interrupted.

"Shut up and let me fuck you, Sheppard, or I'll ask Granger to sit on your face."

(mostly, though, it was a lot of hot sex.)

Pushing John's legs a little wider, Eliot settled on his knees, stroking himself. His other hand was still working fingers in and out of John, making the man twitch and whimper.

Hermione bent over and kissed him, upside-down. Her lips brushed his teasingly as she murmured to him all of the things they were going to do, starting with Eliot. "He's going to slide into you, deep and quick, John. I remember that's how you like it."

Surprisingly, it was Eliot who cursed at her words. "Darlin', don't do that when I'm about to do something delicate."

"She already said fuck," John pointed out.

Eliot grunted and then moved.

Both of them watched as he thrust into John causing the other man to gasp. His fingers tightened on Hermione's. "More."

Climbing back onto the bed, Hermione tilted her head, then made a decision and threw her leg over John. Eliot's hand touched her waist. "I'm set, get yourself impaled on that cock or I'm leavin' you behind."

Wriggling, Hermione grinned at John before grasping his erection and positioning him. She lowered down, feeling him penetrate deeply.

(she never bothered to compare them in the moment. That always seemed rude. They were both definitely the perfect size.)

Her head dropped back, and Eliot's fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her back towards him. He nipped at her shoulder, teeth quick and sharp. She tightened around John, making him grab her hips.

For a moment, they were unsteady, then John's hand caught hers and Eliot's mouth soothed the momentary soreness and Hermione raised herself up a bit.

Then dropped back down, and on cue, Eliot pulled away.

(the first time, establishing any sort of rhythm left them tangled in a confused heap. The second time, Hermione elbowed John off the bed. The third time, Eliot held her hands behind her back until she begged to touch them both.)

One or both of them stroked her hips and Hermione was pretty sure it was her own fingers working at her clit. Feeling Eliot behind her and seeing John falling apart in front of her from over-stimulation quickened her movements.

"Fuck me," John gasped, "Faster, hard, fuck--"

Pulling away, Hermione dropped forward, grinding herself against him harder, feeling Eliot pick up the pace.

Fingers tightened on skin, bruises they would all wear proudly.

"Such a wanton little slut," Hermione teased John, kissing him a moment later, and feeling her skin flush hotter at her own ridiculously ludicrous dirty talk.

His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she knew if they'd been alone, if he'd been the one fucking her, this would have been the moment he took charge. The moment he rolled them and pinned them down. Probably hooking one of her legs over his arm as he drove in deeper.

But he wasn't the one in charge here, it was her in charge, it was Eliot in charge, fucking John. Biting and kissing her skin with his mouth on her back suddenly, his teeth not breaking skin as he left marks on her lower back.

Realistically, they shouldn't all orgasm together. Hermione understood things like refraction rates in men and recovery time in herself (multiple orgasms were more than possible, but she was too sensitive immediately after, and the second was always a slower build, a different _need_ ). Yet sometimes, she thought they could manage it.

Perhaps she could work out the right plan of action at a later date.

Not when Eliot's fingers snuck between them and pinched her clit. Not when John's hands framed her face as he fucked her mouth with his tongue.

Not when she was coming hard and fast, whimpering and moaning and begging them to follow her.

John jerked away from her mouth suddenly, hands reaching for hers, fingers lacing together as he tried to thrust into her.

Luckily, she could still move, her hips twitched and she tightened still-fluttering muscles around him.

He shuddered beneath her, gasping something that might have both of their names.

Eliot was panting and gasping behind them, and Hermione managed to get herself up and turned around enough to kiss him, her hand slipping along his skin. Knowing where to touch Eliot was always difficult. He was tactile but physically distant, and she'd sometimes wondered if he liked her touch.

When he came while she touched him, though, when he silently climaxed and slowly slumped into them, she knew he did enjoy it.

(sometimes, Hermione wondered if taking the posting to Atlantis had been the brightest move of her career. But she'd wanted a change, she'd wanted a challenge. And for all that her life was in danger constantly again, she didn't regret it.)

Beneath her, John made a protesting noise. "You're both killing me here."

"Sorry." Bending, she kissed his chest, then disentangled herself and dropped to the side. A sigh escaped her as she watched Eliot pull himself free and use part of the sheet to clean himself and John.

"My turn," John said. He rolled off the bed and stood to stretch before returning and nudging Hermione until she was on her back. "When you've come again, we might be ready for round two."

She squeaked as he pressed a finger into her, the sensitized flesh making it feel like he'd used something far larger.

Eliot snorted, "Might want to go easy on Granger, Sheppard."

"I'll be gentle as a lamb," John promised before settling onto his belly and burying his face between her legs.

And he was. To a point.

But by the time she wanted to object, she'd already gotten Eliot closer, used a cleaning charm and started to re-animate his erection. She needed him to fuck her, too. And maybe they'd give in and take her at the same time.

She just needed to work out how to convince them it was _definitely_ what she wanted.

And afterwards, they could sleep for a week.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this from prompts that it doesn't manage to actually have, from one of those random pairing generators. _John Sheppard / Eliot Spencer / Hermione Granger - keeping silent & double penetration_ \- I at least managed the Sheppard/Spencer/Granger part of it?


End file.
